Of trust and challenges
by Heroicfantasyfan
Summary: The three Musketeers are up for a new mission! Join Athos, Porthos, Aramis and D'Artagnan in another adventure in which what seemed to be an ordinary task for the King's soldiers will quickly go tragically wrong... Rated T because of violence and a little torture scene in Chapter 8
1. Chapter 1 : A new mission

_**Hey! This is to say that it's my first fic in English (yes, I'm French)! So please don't be too rude with me; otherwise don't hesitate to show me the mistakes I could have made!**_

_**Unfortunately, I don't owe Les trois Mousquetaires (it's a French book after all) neither the characters, except the bad guys. **_

**Chapter 1: A new mission**

-"So, M. De Tréville didn't say why we've been summoned?" Porthos asked, as he and his friends walked into the King's Musketeers' building. He grinned at a couple of ladies in waiting that they went past.

- "No, he didn't", Athos answered, shortly. "His note just said it was urgent".

- "That's what he always says", Aramis sighed, nervously pawing his golden cross.

His friends stared at him, surprised by his tone.

- "Are you all right?" Porthos asked.

- "Yes", the younger Musketeer merely answered. "I'm just tired".

Athos and Porthos looked at each other. Indeed they didn't even had time to rest properly between the missions, and as themselves were always ready, they knew that the former priest could not sustain a cadency as dense as they did, and due to his frail body compared to theirs, he needed more time to rest.

Only a few months had passed since their triumph over the Duke of Buckingham. D'Artagnan had been admitted into one of the junior guards on a two year probation. Meanwhile the three Inseparables went on some missions for the King together, all successful.

At they return, the young Gaskin would always make them tell their adventures. He dreamed of it, he needed it, and all he get as a guard was night patrols and pickpockets' issues.

- "Ah ! Athos, Porthos and Aramis. Come in", De Tréville said.

The former priest snapped back to present, realizing he had been staring at nothing. With a sigh, he enters the room behind his fellow Musketeers.

De Tréville, Captain of the Musketeers, was quite an old man. He was tall and had pepper-and-salt hair.

However, despite his age, no one would despise him, as all the Musketeers loved him as a father, a bit authoritative, a bit rude, but always making the good decisions, and ready to risk his life just as a simple guard.

Actually sitting at his desk, said Captain was looking the three friends as they saluted him with a bow, hat in hand, before sitting in the chairs facing the piece of furniture. They were his best men, rarely failing in a mission. He thought suddenly, seeing the exhaustion on Aramis' face even if he tried to hide it, that he tended to overwork them. He mentally promised to let them rest after this mission; otherwise there could be an accident.

- "I have a new mission for you, guys, he started. Nothing like "saving France", or this type of great causes you aspire to, Aramis, I am sorry for that. It's actually a quite simple task; we heard that an armed gang made up its mind to rob the next taxes from the country before it comes to Paris. We know for sure that they are based near the city, in an old barn near St Charles, at about twenty five kilometers away. Your mission, if you accept it, will be to arrest these guys, preferably before the theft. But I must warn you: their leader, Leloup, is said to be a dirty player, stopping at nothing to get what he wants; otherwise an excellent swordsman who had never been defeated".

- "Well, there's a first time for everything", Athos mumbled.

De Tréville smiled. That's what he liked to hear from a Musketeer: determination. He had a dismissive motion, and the three King's soldiers started to exit the room.

- "Oh, last thing : the convoy of taxes will arrive next week; take time for rest", he winked at Aramis, who smiled in return. "Remember: it's a simple task".

- "Oh, Athos, let me go with you !" D'Artagnan implored as soon as his friends dutifully told him about the new mission they were entrust to. "I'm sure I could defeat this man in a duel !"

- "Don't start with this, please!" The older man sighed. "If you're in the junior guards and not in the King's Musketeers, it must be for a reason. You are still too young to be with us during the missions.

-"I was with you for the case of the Queen's jewels!"

- "Yes, and what happened? You have almost been killed". "Twice", Athos insisted, seeing the Gaskin opening his mouth to protest. "You had Constance almost killed too".

D'Artagnan closed his mouth reopened it, and then closed it again. Without a single more word, he walked towards the stairs and reached his room on the first floor, slamming the door.

- "Why are you constantly refusing him to go with us, Athos?" The former priest asked.

- "I said it : he's too young. He might be hurt, and I don't want him to die on me!"

- "Was I older when we went on our first mission together?"

- "Yes", Porthos answered. "He's 18; you were 19".

- "Don't be dishonest, Porthos".

- "Okay, but D'Artagnan is too young to handle a group like this one alone!"

- "I agree with It", Aramis said. "Nonetheless I think you should trust him a little more".


	2. Chapter 2 : Gaskins' stubborness

**Chapter 2: Gaskins' stubborness**

_**Okay; I know this is a really short chapter. To make me be forgiven, I have already published the third one, which is really **__**longer.**_

The next morning, Porthos and Aramis came down to find Athos already showered and dressed up. That was strange for the leader of the group who rather tended to make his appearance just before lunch, especially when he went to bed with some bottles of wine.

- "Morning Athos", Aramis began, still a bit surprised. "Slept well?"

- "No", his friend grumbled. "One of you made a row last night; it kept me from finding sleep".

- "That was not me", Porthos answered. "I was so tired that I don't even remember going to bed".

It couldn't be the former priest either, for the two Musketeers knew well that he had the ability to be perfectly silent when he walked; that's why they didn't bother ask. It could only be D'Artagnan.

- "Where's he, by the way?" Athos asked. "He wasn't in his room this morning when I called for breakfast and didn't sleep in his bed, he added when he saw the intrigued looks of his friends".

The Inseparables thought silently for a moment, before realization hit them.

- "Oh God, don't tell me he went to…"

- "You bet?" Porthos cut.

Aramis pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperation, while Athos was bursting out.

- "I will have him tied up to a chair so he will not be able to do silly things anymore!" He nagged the young thoughtless man they have as a friend.

- "We have to help him. D'Artagnan will not have a chance against Leloup and his men", Aramis said, grabbing his sword and daggers. "He might get wounded".

- "He would deserve it", Athos mumbled

- "Athos…"

- "What! You know as well as I do that we carefully told him _not _to go there alone! And you spoke about trust!"

- "Well, at least we know where he is…" the former priest sighed, not bothering to answer the last part of Athos' tirade, which he knew was directly meant for him.


	3. Chapter 3 : Rescue

**Chapter 3: A rescue that goes tragically wrong**

When the three Musketeers arrived to the barn, which seemed so old that she could collapse at any time, they had to sneak out it, as it was heavily guarded; being used to this they quickly found an entrance on their own, at the back of it. Luckily they were hidden by shadows and farmer tools, for the inside were even fuller of odds than the outside.

From where they were, they could see the duel that was taking place before their very eyes. As they expected it, D'Artagnan was fighting a tall and cruel-looking man who had to be Leloup. However Athos didn't comment that fact and Aramis was glad for this, as the older man had only stopped mumbling and grumbling at the youngest member of the group to take his breath.

- "He's lucky that Leloup's men didn't take part in the fight", Aramis remarked.

- "I think Leloup will not need them", Porthos replied, seeing the young Gaskin sway.

- "You seem to be a little inexperimented for a Musketeer", D'Artagnan's opponent remarked.

The young man didn't bother to answer. He straightened and resumed fighting.

- "He pretended to be a Musketeer?!" Athos whispered.

- "He must have taken his sense of exaggeration from you, Porthos", Aramis smirked.

- "I don't even see what you mean".

They watched a little more until they saw D'Artagnan falling on the ground, the blade of his opponent pointed at his throat.

- "We must intervene", the former priest declared. "He's going to be killed!"

- "You're right", Athos agreed.

- "Let's go, then," the other man concluded, drawing his sword, readying his daggers.

Leloup was looking at the man he just defeated. He was definitely too young to be what he pretended to be.

- "You're not a Musketeer, are you?"

- "Hmm… Not really, not yet", D'Artagnan replied.

- "But we are!" Athos shouted as the three friends emerged from the back of the barn.

The gang stayed a moment, startled by the sudden appearance of the King's men, and the young Gaskin took advantage of the opportunity to slip away from Leloup's sword before joining the intruders.

The leader of the crooks smiled when he finally recognized the newcomers.

- "And you must be the famous Inseparables", he smirked. "The three best swordsmen in Paris".

- "Thank for the compliment", Athos replied, bowing slightly.

- "Athos, there's no time for this", D'Artagnan said. "We have to arrest them before they are able to steal the taxes! They have planned to do it when it will arrive near Paris, and have already posted some men around!"

- "D'Artagnan, we are grateful for this precious information, but we precisely asked you _not_ to go here!"

- "So, he is your… protégée ?" Leloup interrupted.

- "So?" Porthos replied.

- "Porthos, for God's sake", Aramis sighed. "Shall I remember all of you the reason we came here?"

The four men raised their swords towards the gang.

- "You'd better forget it", one of the men warned. "We're ten times more numerous than you are!"

- "_That"_, Athos commented, taking up a position to fight, "is not a problem."

The other men looked at them, wondering if he was serious, and when they made sure he was, they ran towards them, and the fight begun with the clash of swords.

As Athos said, as many as were their opponents, they were not a problem for the Musketeers. Having defeated his first adversary, he quickly glanced to his friends. Each had already killed one man, and D'Artagnan was quickly finishing another one while Porthos was playing with three more who looked slightly horrified, as the great Musketeer didn't even bother to unsheathe. Aramis, as usual, was dealing with two opponents at the time, effecting a glisé (_fencing term : attack of feint that slide along the opponent's blade)_ killing one of them instantly, then swiftly drawing a dagger to throw it at another crook who was approaching from behind before parrying his second assailant's blow.

The leader of the group smiled seeing his friends' efficiency; then he suddenly remarked a huge man even bigger than Porthos coming towards him; he had no weapon, even a blade, but his eyes reflecting the obvious intention to smash him when he would reach him. He bravely drove his sword, more or less ready to fight this giant.

The man stopped before the Musketeer, and lifted an arm to catch him by the collar. Athos feinted swiftly, and two seconds later his adversary was bleeding of the forearm. Surprised, the creature growled and, passing Athos, he seized a large beam behind him, and snatched it from the rest of the barn, before turning back to the Musketeer, who consedered his sword with a discouraged look.

Aramis was finishing dealing with another opponent when he saw the big guy tearing the piece of wood off, and stepping forward towards Athos with a menacing posture, while his friend was trying to back away.

At that moment, the former priest heard a grim crack over him; looking up slowly, he saw the roof of the building starting to move, as the beams around were breaking. His eyes widened when the struck of revelation hit him.

- "Watch out!" He shouted, before the barn fell on the fighters.


	4. Chapter 4 : Safe but one

**Chapter 4: Safe but one.**

Athos slowly regained consciousness. He opened his eyes only to close them immediately, a strong headache appearing with the overflow of light. After a few seconds, he reopened, narrowing his eyes.

Trying to get up he felt a diffuse pain in his chest, and as he continued his movement, the pain turned into a sudden burn that made him scream.

At the noise, a young woman dressed as a nun who was reading a file turned around. When she saw the Musketeer moving in his bed, she suddenly put down the document.

- "Please sir, don't move", she commanded.

- "Where am I?" Athos asked a bit stunned.

- "You are at the Hospice Saint-Laurent. We found you and other men in – or rather under – the barn that collapsed in the afternoon."

Athos posed for a second, trying to remember what she was speaking of. When he suddenly did, he struggled even more to get up. The nurse gripped him firmly by his arms, showing a surprising strength, and forced him back to the bed.

- "I said "don't move". You have a broken rib and were hit on the head."

- "Where are my friends? Are they safe?" The Musketeer asked, resigned for the moment.

- "Athos!" He heard suddenly.

The man looked towards the call and felt an intense relief recognizing Porthos and d'Artagnan. They didn't seem to have been hurt seriously, but they still had bandages on the forearms.

- "You scared me, my friend", Porthos laughed, giving him a big pat on the back, making Athos shout in pain. "Oh, sorry!"

- "You were lucky not to be more injured", the leader of the group commented once he had regained his breath.

- "I managed to get the kid out of there when it collapsed", Porthos explained. "We just received a few splinters. Fortunately Aramis warned us in time."

- "By the way, where is he?"

Porthos was going to answer when he realized he didn't know. He could feel the growing concern in his friends as they understood none of them did.

Then Athos turned to the nun.

- "Do you know where is our friend Aramis? He's a Musketeer like us, and wears the same clothing."

The feeling that was conveyed on the woman's face made him regretting what he asked.

- "Yes, I do, he's in another room. The doctor is with him. But you can't move, sir", she protested when she saw Athos asking Porthos to help him leaving the bed.

- "I want to see him", he insisted.

With a sigh, the nurse showed the way. She opened a door and the three friends got in.

There was only one bed in the room, and a little bedside table. A doctor was sitting near the bed, looking at the unconscious man who was lying on it.

The Musketeers froze, startled. It was Aramis.

He seemed to be asleep, but the too slight movement of his chest and the bandage around his head sadly proved otherwise. It was strange to see him like this, so quiet, so peaceful. It made him look so frail, so fragile.

D'Artagnan reached slowly the top of the bed, before kneeling near Aramis' head. All of this was his fault.

- "Head injury", the nurse explained. "We think that the retaining beam fell and, with the rest of the barn collapsing, he might have failed to avoid it. He is into a coma."

- "Will he put through?" Athos asked while the two others were too shocked to even speak.

- "We can't know yet", the doctor answered. "He might as well stay unconscious for a long time, as he could wake up tomorrow. And if he does, he can be amnesic or suffer from mental disabilities due to the powerful blow he received."

The Musketeers didn't answer. Athos sat on the edge of the bed while Porthos took the empty chair the doctor just left.

- "Thank you, sir", Athos said to the doctor. "We will take care of him."

The latter opened his mouth, as if he wanted to speak, but closed it. He nodded, and then took something out of his pocket.

- "We found this next to him, in the barn", he explained, showing the golden curved cross that always was on Aramis' chest. "I think he will need it".

The older of the Musketeers took the necklace silently thanking him.

- "My nurses might come sometimes to check him", the physician added before leaving the room.


	5. Chapter 5 : Of row and relief

**Chapter 5: Of row and relief**

_Ten hours later_

In the main hall of the hospice were cured the sick and the light-wounded. Amongst all the coughing and moaning were five men from the Leloup's group, who were hurt during the battle against the Musketeers.

- "Hey! Why doesn't somebody take care of us?" One of the crooks complained.

- "Because you're not the people in the most urgent need of medical attention", replied dryly the nurse they had shouted at, before entering a small room.

The man glanced at his siblings before reporting his look on the door the young woman just closed.

- "So, someone was hurt when the barn collapsed", he smiled mischievously.

- "And as all of us are here …" continued one of his accomplices.

- "It must be one of these cursed musketeers!" Another one understood.

- "Let's see it", the first man decided.

The five men stood up before walking silently towards the room. A strange scene awaited them.

- "D'Artagnan, we need to speak," Athos declared, standing up from Aramis' bed.

The Gaskin followed him reluctantly, leaving his place at the former priest's side, while Porthos stayed where he was.

Not exiting the room, the leader of the group leaned against the door, making sure nobody would disturb them.

- "We do not blame you."

- "I know."

But Athos could see it, the stiff line of the boy's shoulders, the quivering bottom lip. The bleak light in eyes that should have been bright with intelligence and laughter. Knowing he had to say this now in order to forestall the darkness he could sense collecting within the young Gaskin's mind, Athos gripped D'Artagnan by the shoulders, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze.

- "This is not your fault, D'Artagnan."

A strangled cry told him that his suspicions were correct. He forged onward.

- "You are not to blame for this. Nothing could have stopped this barn to fall."

- "If only I…", D'Artagnan gasped, his voice growing thick with tears. "I shouldn't have come sneaking at Leloup's."

His voice had dropped to a bare whisper.

- "If you hadn't, then we would never have known what he wanted to do. "Even if you did that against our orders. In fact, I think I would have done the same thing. And when Aramis will wake up…"

- "If he ever wakes up…"

- "_When _he will wake up, he will say you the same as I do. So don't be worried, and don't feel guilty, ok?"

D'Artagnan smiled to show he understood. Grinning in return, Athos came forward and took the younger man in a hug. Unable to resist, Porthos stood up and joined them.

Suddenly the door flew open. Turning back, the three men found the crooks they have already seen sneaking in the room, surprise on their faces as they found all their enemies there, and all but one making a hug, smiles spreading quickly after.

- "Need a hug?" One of them laughed.

- "You have nothing to do here!" Athos shouted.

- "We have been told that one of the musketeers has been wounded", the leader of the small group smirked. "So we come to see. Is it serious?"

- "Mind your own business!"

- "So it must be. And it must be your fault too", added deliberately another man, talking to D'Artagnan, smiling when he caught the two older musketeers' look of anger and the young man's guilty one.

- "If you don't want to be hurt too, you'd better leave this room, _now", _Porthos declared, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Seeing the fierce expression of the great Musketeer, the men backed away before coming out of the room.

D'Artagnan suddenly heard a faint groan behind him. Turning back, he saw Aramis' eyelids quivering, and his breathing speeding up.

The young man rushed towards him, making Athos and Porthos turning over.

- "What is it?" The leader of the group pressed.

- "I… I think he's waking up!"


	6. Chapter 6 : A short-lived hope

**Chapter 6: A short-lived hope**

It had taken more than two hours to Aramis to regain consciousness plainly. These two more hours of waiting had almost driven the three others mad, just watching him, as the doctor, who had immediately returned at the news, had forbidden them to try to wake him by themselves, pretexting the blow the former priest received, and that it would be better to let him wake alone to see if there were some lesions. But once he was proven to have fully recovered, nothing could have prevented the three friends to agglutinate at "their" wounded's side during hours, chatting and joking like the old friends there were.

- "I would really prefer keep him at the hospice for the night", the doctor explained. "You will be able to pick him up tomorrow."

- "If you find it's better for him", Athos answered, a bit disappointed.

He knew that all were eager to go home, make a good meal and act as if nothing happens, some to forget the form of Aramis lying unconscious on the bed, at the hospice, and the latter to make his friends not worrying about him anymore.

When he told his friends the doctor's decision, a few minutes later, they were all in the same mood, Aramis even more than the others.

- "Well, if I have no choice…" he mumbled.

- "Hey, it's just one more night", Porthos smiled. "Think to de Tréville who will put us at work as soon as he will know you are safe! You are lucky!"

- "If you say it…"

- "Don't be so disappointed", Athos tried to comfort him. "We will come tomorrow. Just rest well.

Oh , I was forgetting to give this back to you," he added, showing the little cross the doctor gave him hours ago.

Aramis nodded, thanking the elder Musketeer and quickly putting the necklace around his neck. He immediately felt better by feeling the usual and reassuring weight of the cross and a few minutes later sat in his bed to watch his friends leaving.

_I've got a feeling I will have a restless night_; he thought however when the door closed. The concept about sleeping in an unknown place, without Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan, just made him feel ill-at-ease.

The night had fallen hours ago on the small hospice. In the old manufactured building, everybody was asleep – or almost.

One of the windows on the ground floor suddenly creaked in the quiet silence. A black-dressed man wearing a mask entered the main hall before heading for a small room. He stopped at the door, looking at the wounded man sleeping in the bed that almost took the entire space. Even if he was on the mend, he still wore the bandage on his head to protect the injury.

The intruder took a few steps closer, in such a way that he was near the bed. Leaning over, he smiled : it was him. Aramis. The third of the musketeers.

He pulled a small bottle from his jacket's pocket. Its glass appeared almost black in the darkened mansion. It was time.

With his other hand, he retrieved a small, beige cloth and gripped it within his fingers. The beige cloth spread out in his palm. He lifted the glass bottle, unscrewing the cap. He had to move quickly; the smell alone could wake the dead.

Without waking the dead, it woke Aramis.

The bandit froze when he suddenly heard the young man stir. The latter frowned, probably from the smell. He was wakening.

The crook immediately flattened his hand over the musketeer's mouth in order to avoid any shout or noise likely to alert the nurses who, he knew, slept in a dormitory next to the patients' room.

With that, Aramis opened his eyes. He peered up. Both men froze in place. There was only a mild curiosity on the wounded's features, as if he was wondering if he was really awake. As his gaze found the other man's, however, his expression snapped to attention.

Then, his gaze dropped to the cloth in the intruder's hand, before returning to his eyes.

He couldn't escape - they both knew it. He was still too weak.

But Aramis didn't let that type of logic stop him. Managing to punch suddenly his enemy in the cheek, he stretched his arm to the other side of the bed, trying to reach the bedside table, where Athos had left his daggers before leaving with Porthos and d'Artagnan. But he never could seize them.

Planting a knee on the edge of the bed, the crook grabbed the former priest's right arm and forced him back around. It was easy, far easier than he'd expected. The recovering musketeer struggled with him, trying to shout despite the hand put over his mouth.

Pushing Aramis' left arm away, the man pressed the damp cloth onto his victim's face. The other man closed his eyes: he held his breath.

The masked man suddenly remarked the sun pointing in the skies. It would soon be dawn, and the nurses, who were nuns, too, would get up for the morning's prayers. He was running out of time.

He drew his attention back on his target. Aramis' hands were gripped to his opponent's sleeves. But there was no more fight in them. His eyelids flew open, and his gaze held to his abductor's eyes as he slowly began breathing into the cloth. Then, the musketeer's pupils glazed over. Any consciousness disappeared like a flame between two fingers.

The crook didn't wait. He pulled the former priest out of his bed, and taking him on his back, he retreated towards the window from which he had entered.


	7. Chapter 7 : Problems in sight!

**Chapter 7: Problems in sight !**

- "Excuse me, one of our friends stayed here last night, in this room."

- "Hum, I'm sorry I started to work here only on the morning. Maybe you can describe him?"

- "Tall, black-haired, dark-eyed, and younger than both of us (showing Porthos and him), well dressed… He has a golden cross that he wears as a necklace…"

- "Oh I'm sorry, it tells me nothing. And as I am the main nurse for the morning, all the night nurses have to tell me if a patient leaves at night. I'm really sorry I can't help you."

- "… Okay, thank you."

Leaving the young woman to his friends with a worried look on his face, Athos moved towards the exit.

- "This is bad. The nurse said no one saw him leaving."

- "What does it prove?" D'Artagnan asked.

- "That means Aramis has a problem, as he would never leave like this, without telling anyone and in the middle of the night. And, more, wounded", Porthos answered. "He can be very stubborn, but not to this point."

- "Come on", Athos interrupted. "Let's search the room to find some clues about what happened."

His mind was submerged in fog. Within it lingered a calm serenity—the moment between sleep and waking where no worries could pry their way inside and no nightmares could surface. He liked it there. But it couldn't last.

As a voice penetrated Aramis' ears, the fog began to clear. His eyes opened. Above him, someone was speaking. Bit by bit, his vision found some clarity and then, like a lightning bolt to the brain, the image before him morphed into something real.

He was in a sort of an underground, as he could guess from the big tunnels with the white brick-walls that surrendered him.

He had to fight back the nausea he felt because of the smell of the sedative that rested in his nostrils. His head was pounding from the wound on his temple, but when he tried to reach it, he suddenly realized that his hands were tied together.

- "Good to see you awake. Aramis, I presume?"

- "I can't see the point of asking when you obviously know who I am", the captive slurred as the sedative was slowly leaving his mind.

The former priest was suddenly lifted from wherever he was to the level of Leloup's eyes, who had gripped his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe. He felt the pain of his head wound increasing and pounding even more as he was forced upright ; he winced, closing his eyes.

- "You know, I was really impressed by your skills at swordplay, during the fight of the other day, but you're no longer impressive anymore when you're alone and hurt, and my prisoner more of it", Leloup smirked.

Aramis couldn't reply, for the fist his captor had pressed on his throat was starting to strangle him. On the other hand, he couldn't let this insult unpunished either, so he merely planted his eyes in Leloup's, showing him all the despise he felt for him, before spitting on the ground.

In response, his abductor banged him against the wall with a look full of anger that could have the former priest dead if looks could kill. He didn't pay attention when Aramis cried out of pain as his head made contact with the stone. Then he let him go, and turned as his prisoner collapsed on the floor, dizzy, trying to get his breath.

- "You will regret this, I promise", Leloup threatened. "Lalorgne, make sure he's well restrained and explain him in what our little game consists".

At these words, Aramis lifted his head and glanced at his enemy, before being suddenly gripped from behind by strong arms that dragged him non too gently towards the wall, where there cuffed him to the metal restraints hanging on it, arms outstretched.

- "So", the said Lalorgne began, "regarding our little game…"

Aramis couldn't prevent himself fromshivering when he saw the looks of greed the other crooks were watching him with, neither as the man was explaining him what they planned for him.

- "Oh, by the way…" Leloup began, coming back towards Aramis.

The Musketeer eyed him with defiance, not knowing what to expect from the man who, he was now sure of that, was completely mad.

- "You won't need this anymore", his abductor added, before rashly tearing the Cross off Aramis' neck.

- "Give it back to me!" The former priest roared after a second to register what just happened, trying to free himself from the shackles.

- "Oh, you like it?" His foe smiled innocently. So I will make sure to give it to someone you know.

Then one of the strong men that made Aramis restrained, on an order of his master, yielded a full force back hand blow that snapped his head to the side, making him cry out of pain before knocking him out.

- "It seems that Leloup likes games", Athos commented, trying to hide the anger that was growing in his chest.

The three had finished the search of the room, and all the clues they could find pointed to a kidnapping organized by Leloup.

The elder Musketeer was actually reading a message left by the captor they had discovered under the bed.

- "What do you mean?" Porthos asked, while d'Artagnan was already paling.

- "He's proposing a simple challenge : we try to stop him from pursuing his aim and succeeding in stealing the taxes."

- "What about Aramis? Does Leloup mention him?"

- "Yes. He says that in order to make it more difficult for us, for each of his men killed or captured, Aramis would pay. We all know what that's mean."

- "But why did they do this? Why kidnap Aramis? I mean, amongst us?" D'Artagnan asked.

- "Maybe because he was wounded, he was alone… to make this hurting more, our enemy wanted to take over the 'weakest' of the four Musketeers, and of the three Inseparables."

- "Well, I wish him a lot of fun with our padre", Porthos commented, smiling slightly.

- "We'll need help to get him out of it", Athos declared more seriously. "I think we should go to de Tréville's and tell him what happened."


	8. Chapter 8 : Having a bad time

**Chapter 8 : Having a bad time**

In the room Aramis was confined, there was nothing but silence. When he had regained consciousness, after God knew how much time, Leloup and his men were gone.

The Musketeer was glad of it; however his relief didn't last.

As if they had been informed of his awakening, the band of outlaws came back about ten minutes later, filling the room out as more and more of the gang arrived. And Aramis didn't like the look of their faces.

The thugs kept edging closer and closer, their faces filled with blood lust, and the former priest doubted that anything could keep them at bay. He stared up at them bravely, his face defiant, and tensed his body for what he knew was about to come.

However, a rumor came suddenly from behind the group, and the crooks halted their advance, their voices dying away into complete silence. The front row shifted and moved aside, revealing an approaching Leloup. The Musketeer fixed his look on him, determined not to let him imagine he could be afraid of him.

**- **"Well, well, well" Leloup hissed, the sound coming out more like a hideous laugh. "I have been waiting a long time for this moment."

Aramis stared up at his tormentor, his features calm and expressionless.

- "I thought you wanted to set up a little game with Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan", he ventured, hoping that, by reminding Leloup his previous projects, it would distract him enough to forget what he could easily imagine was in store for him.

His abductor cocked his head, his grin widening.

- "I think I got enough of this even before it started. Besides, my men are calling for the show," he explained, his voice gleeful. "They have worked hard, and perhaps I shall give you to them. They know how to have fun, and it shall be an enjoyment to watch them. I am curious what it will take to make a Musketeer, more of it one of the Inseparables, scream."

When the former priest merely continued to watch him, his face cold and unreadable, Leloup's features darkened.

- "Of course, if you would bow before me and beg for your life, perhaps I shall spare you from their hands," he growled, his eyes narrowing.

For the first time, Aramis showed a reaction, but it was not one the other man was expecting. His prisoner let out a short laugh, looking up at Leloup with disgust and contempt and already shaking his head.

- "I would never bow to you," he spat with disdain, his green eyes flashing. "Nor would I beg mercy from a bunch of mere thugs," he added, filling the last word with as much derision and contempt as he could muster. "If that's what you wanted from me, you can kill me now".

An angry mutter went through the surrounding bandits, but Leloup just smiled even larger.

- "No, my pet," he spoke slowly, his voice now filled with condescension. "I shall not kill you, though you will wish you were dead before I am through. I have a much better plan for you."

Leloup motioned a large thug over to him, the man perhaps one of the largest Aramis had ever seen. He recognized it instantly as the man who tried to smash Athos in the barn.

- "I want to see him suffer," he ordered the giant coldly. "I want to see him bleed."

At this last sentence, Leloup licked his lips, looking at Aramis hungrily.

- "You're mad". The latter stated.

The Musketeer had already winced when the man had called him "his pet", but he didn't had the occasion to reply with what he thought about the mental state of his abductor.

The final answer of Leloup achieved to convince him, while he could feel chills going down in his back.

- "Don't worry for that, you will be too, after I finished dealing with you".

With that, he turned and left the room, to stop in the corridor. He wanted to hear his captive scream and beg for forgiveness, without having to stand in the room with his men, risking being dirtied or hustled.

He took great delight of the sound of beating and breaking bones, and tried to imagine the state the Musketeer would be in after that.

But Aramis wouldn't scream; at most he would let escape pained moans or exclamations, but nothing comparable to what Leloup wanted to hear.

Frustrated, the gangster finally left his position; a captive tortured who didn't scream or beg for forgiveness was losing all his interest.

_Author note : __So what do you think of this chapter? It was the most difficult to write, and I want to know if I did it well or if I screwed up._


	9. Chapter 9 : Preparing to rescue

**Chapter 9 : Preparing to rescue**

- "He has very likely been abducted", Athos summed up the situation. "Nobody saw him leaving, and in this case he would never have left his daggers on the night table. There isn't any sign of a fight, but a strong smell of sedative was still here when we entered the room."

- "Searching it we found this message from Leloup", added Porthos, showing the paper de Tréville was holding.

The three friends had done as they decided, and had returned in the Musketeers' Hall to explain the situation at their Captain, rather than trying to solve the problem by themselves.

Usually they preferred acting and taking the decisions between them, but this time Aramis' life was at stake.

- "You have to be cautious, de Tréville said once his Musketeers finished their explanation. Very cautious about this man. I will of course not try to prevent you from rescuing Aramis; I will even give you permission to bring with you whatever you want, Musketeers included, as well as a _lettre de cachet*_. But for God's sake, be cautious. Be cautious and be quick. I told you Leloup was dangerous, you experimented it; I told you he was a dirty player too, and that I hope you will not have to face it, but I'm afraid he'll soon grow fatigued of the rules he set for his own game, and that he'll begin to torture Aramis soon, and this however you choose to act, whether to follow his orders or to stop them."

The three friends were looking at the Captain of the Musketeers, more and more troubled while the old man was speaking. They had never seen him this serious before, and it was only comforting the idea they had about the gravity and the urgency of the situation, which they all hoped wasn't that dramatic.

On these last words de Tréville dismissed them.

_Author note : _

_Lettre de cachet : a French old expression that means a certain type of letter the King and his repr__e__sentants used before the French Revolution in order to put in prison anybody they wanted to (it was often used by the King to silence his opponents or make the people he didn't like disappear)._

_As I am French I know this expression from my History lessons, but I didn't find the translation in En__g__lish. Sorry!_

- "So, how do we proceed?" D'Artagnan asked as they were exiting the Musketeers' Hall.

- "First, we find where they brought Aramis", Athos replied.

- "Then, we go there, kill the bad guys and save our padre", Porthos added.

- "That's exactly what I've imagined, but my question was "how", not "what"."

- "Well…" Athos began, before being interrupted by Porthos' sudden move as he gripped the collar of a man who was walking behind them. "Porthos? Could you tell me what the hell you are doing?"

- "Tss… Language, Athos", D'Artagnan automatically said with a so perfect imitation of Aramis that he could difficultly prevent himself from laughing.

But that was not the moment. Porthos seemed such angered that the elder Musketeer began thinking there was something not right.

- "This rat was spying us!" The great Musketeer confirmed a few seconds later, tackling the guy against a column, arms outstretched to lift him the highest possible.

- "I know this man…" Athos began, before suddenly remembering. "He was with the bandits we fought, in the barn!"

- "So, you came directly to the Musketeers' hall to say what you know about our friend? So speak, we're listening", Porthos shouted, lifting the guy even more high against the wall, while some King's soldiers were approaching, knowing the great Musketeer could only be in such a wrath because of what recently happened to Aramis.

Without being as close of the former priest than Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan, all liked him in the Order, admiring him for his skills at swordplay such like for the comforting words he never hesitate to distribute when circumstances of all sorts asked for it.

- "I… I know nothing!" The man cried. "I am not with them anymore; they just hired me for the work in the barn!"

- "So what are you doing here, if not for spying us?" Athos asked, furious the crook dared lie to them.

When the other didn't answer, the elder of the Musketeers sighed.

- "Let him be, Porthos, we'll learn nothing from him."

- "I don't believe that", his friend replied with an irritated tone. "Not when I have a proof he saw Aramis more recently than he tries to convince us."

- "What do you mean?" D'Artagnan whispered.

- "I mean this."

Searching with a hand in the guy's collar, he suddenly made a little jewel shining in the light. Athos and D'Artagnan gasped.

Lifting it so all could see what it was, Porthos put the very Aramis' golden cross out of the man's cloth.


	10. Chapter 10 : All for one

**Chapter 10: All for one.**

By the time they had finished with him, the spy was barely alive and they knew exactly where Aramis was kept.

He had all avowed; how he was sent to capture the wounded Musketeer because he was amongst the only men of the group to survive the collapse of the barn and that Leloup wanted to relish his revenge as soon as possible, how the latter had given him the cross of his prisoner as a reward, advising him to sell it after doing a last thing for him which was spying the progress of his enemies, and how, weary of his game with the Musketeers, he had finally decided he wouldn't let Aramis live but wanted to make him suffer before killing him.

- "Athos, I am worried for him", began Porthos, looking at the cross he had taken to the crook.

They had reported the last bit of information about Aramis to Tréville, who then merely asked them what they were still doing there instead of organizing a rescue operation, which they were now preparing.

"You know how much he needs it in a daily situation, and now, with all he must be enduring, he can't even find hope by patting it, making his prayers…"

- "Porthos", Athos cut him, trying to reassure him. "Aramis doesn't need this to find and keep hope. He shall know we are coming, and the Lord never abandoned him, did He?"

- "No", the great Musketeer smiled.

- "So, keep calm. We'll soon have to fight, my friend."

Inside him, Athos said however to himself that he hoped he was right. They were preparing their assault consciously but he knew that at three they wouldn't go very far against a few dozens of bandits, not when the enemy had the perfect leveraging tool to prevent them from doing it.

- "Athos?" a voice called behind him.

The elder Musketeer turned over to see a group of King's soldiers of all ages standing before him. One of them, Demuset that Athos knew well as he entered the King's Musketeers at about the same time than the Three Inseparables, took a step forward.

- "We want to go with you", he said; then, seeing that the Musketeer wasn't reacting, he pursued : "we all owe a lot to you three, but we never had a chance to show it. Allow us to help you freeing Aramis from these damned bastards ; I swear on my sword we'll not deceive you."

Athos smiled. "Of course you'll not deceive me. Never. I'll be glad to have you on this rescue mission, for I'm afraid there is a trap waiting for us in the catacombs.

They had arrived to the catacombs to find the metal door locked and heavily reinforced.

- "Recent work", Porthos commented.

- "That's another proof they are inside", Athos replied. "Can you open it?"

- "Of course", the other Musketeer smiled. "There is no door that can resist me."

And with that, he took the door bodily, and ripped it out of his hinges. Without seeming the slightest breathless, he then outstretched a hand towards the dark corridor, bowing exaggeratedly.

- "After you".

A creaking was reverberated in the corridors, making them acknowledging the presence of intruders.

- "We are ready", Leloup commented when he entered the room at the end of the corridor, where his best men stood, one of them restraining Aramis, the latter having given into a sort of unconsciousness, numb from all the pain he had to endure. "Make them know where we are".

Without an hesitation, the man holding Aramis put a knife out of his belt, and planted it suddenly in the former priest's right shoulder.

The latter jerked awake, eyes widened, and couldn't prevent himself from crying, both out of surprise and suffering as a veil of pain was covering his eyes, darkening his sight.

Quickly after though, Leloup nodded at his tormentor who tore the weapon off while putting his hand on the former priest's mouth, muffling his second yell.

- "Aramis? Aramis!" He heard Athos calling a few seconds later.

The sound of his friend's voice warmed and reassured him; a wave of hope overwhelmed him, before he remembered the danger they were encoring.

They went for him; he had to warn them. Trying to ignore the pain from his stabbed shoulder that, for him, supplanted all the others he had been submitted to, he managed to straight despite the grip of his opponent.

- "Athos, it's a trap!" Aramis managed to shout before the hand of his assailant plated more heavily on his mouth to keep him quiet.

- "Shut up!" The latter ordered, slowly slipping the dagger still tainted with blood on his throat.

At this moment he realized how much his voice should have seemed hoarse and weak to his friends.

There was a short silence before Athos carried on.

- "Aramis? Don't worry, we'll be there soon."

Unable to do anything, the Musketeer could nothing but stand and watch as his friends tried to enter the cache in the underground.


	11. Chapter 11 : Confrontation

_Author's note : _

_Hey!_

_Like I promised to RandomWriter, I update sooner than usual. Don't think it will be an habit! In fact I love having my readers waiting for the next chapter… Sadistic? Yes, I know… ;)_

**Chapter 11 : Confrontation**

All the Musketeers had frozen when they had heard the pain-filled scream echoing in the moist darkness of the catacombs.

It had taken a few seconds for Athos to react, but once all had heard the very man they came for answering, relief overwhelmed them, for they knew now they were not too late.

Even if the state of Aramis that they could guess from his hoarse and tired voice worried them greatly.

However they didn't have time to think about it as a flock of full-armed men appeared from the corridor in front of them. All the Musketeers unsheathed their weapons and began to fight.

The battle was raging for half an hour, and they were still new assailants to come into the fight. Two of the King's soldiers were lying on the ground, one dead and the other too heavily wounded to resume fighting.

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were acting like lions, their energy and their determination never seeming to decrease. However, all of them knew that they had to leave the fight to find their friend.

- "Athos, go!" Demuset shouted at this moment, unknowingly echoing their thoughts as he was slamming his opponent to the wall. "Find Aramis! We'll try to stop them!"

The Musketeer thanked him with a nod, then ushered his two friends towards the last room, in which they entered without waiting for permission.

- "You will not go further, at least if the life of your fellow Musketeer means something for you", said a voice that made them stop immediately.

Athos clenched his teeth in barely restrained fury seeing the scene displayed in front of him. His vision tinged with red. He took a deep breath.

Aramis was firmly restrained by a strong man, and the two were surrounded by what was left of the crooks of the group, all over armed. In the middle was standing Leloup.

What was worrying the Musketeer the most was the state of his friend. He was barely conscious, and seemed to have been such beaten, broken, stabbed… it was difficult to find a part of his skin that was neither bruised nor covered of dry blood.

Like each time he was wounded, the elder Musketeer suddenly realized how much the former priest seemed fragile, whereas he looked so dangerous in a fight, armed with his sword and daggers.

- "Admit it, Musketeers, you've lost", Leloup smirked, snapping Athos back to reality. "Now bow before me and pray that I'll spare your lives and the one of your friend."

The elder of the Musketeers sighed, and then looked at his brothers-in-arms, signaling them to obey, starting himself the move.

- "Athos, you have no honor", the head of the gang laughed.

- "Not when it comes to the life of a friend", Athos replied before firing at one of Leloup's men with the musket he was hiding.

Porthos and D'Artagnan did the same, and two others crooks fell, including the one restraining Aramis, who collapsed with him.

The former priest tried to catch the breath he had lost in the grip of the man, and began to panic when he realized he couldn't. He couldn't fight either when someone else grabbed him, forcing him on his feet.

The aggravating situation of their friend was unknown to the three rescuers. There was only one bandit left, the one that was currently holding Aramis tight, placing a knife on his throat like the other crook had done. Who was nobody else than Leloup.

- "Leloup, let's be reasonable."

His opponent responded with a slightly crazed laugh.

-"Oh Athos, we are beyond being reasonable."

Porthos was seething beside him, so the elder Musketeer wasn't surprised when he heard him reply to Leloup.

-"You might as well give it up; you can't get out of this one."

The other man pressed the knife harder against Aramis' pale throat.

- "Maybe not, but I'm at least going to go down in style. If I die, your fellow Musketeer dies with me," Leloup said, shaking his prisoner roughly for emphasis.

D'Artagnan heard the former priest moaning softly in pain. All he wanted to do was run to him and make sure he was ok. It was his fault Aramis was hurt, and then kidnapped, for Leloup would have not paid attention to them if he had not disobeyed the orders.

- "No one is dying today but you Leloup", Athos spoke slowly, with a threatening tone.

- "I'd like to see it", smiled the head of the gang.

The leader of the Musketeers couldn't concentrate; he was too busy watching Aramis. What worried him most, apart his unresponsiveness, was his blue-tinged lips. The former priest probably had bruised if not broken ribs, for his friend could now see he was having difficulty breathing.

A sudden commotion started behind the Musketeers, in the rooms they were crossing a few minutes ago.

- "Reinforcement", Porthos commented as the noises of the battle increased.

- "For him or for us?" Athos asked, not taking his eyes out of Leloup and Aramis for his very life.

The great Musketeer turned, trying to discern the men who were fighting.

- "For us!" he answered, laughing in relief. It's the Musketeers, and I can see de Tréville!

The two others smiled, knowing the nightmare they all lived, Aramis first, will be ended soon.

They couldn't know how much there were wrong.

- "Surrender now, Leloup, and maybe the King will be clement."

The mad man stopped aiming the Musketeers ; instead he pointed the musket directly towards Aramis' heart.

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan shot as one. However, _four _muskets were fuming a second later, the very second the three friends watched with horror as the two men fell.

_**Hop! And one cliffhanger! That's a revenge for Aramislover who likes "**_**having others to stew in their impatience for an update"! ;)**

_**The next chapter will be a bit longer to update, as it's one of the last chapters of this fic (I still don't know if I make one big final chapter or two normal-sized ones) and I haven't finished it yet. Sorry!**_


	12. Chapter 12 : Good and bad news

**Chapter 12 : Good and bad news**

The three friends rushed to their friend; Athos and Porthos took care of him, carefully laying him on the ground, his head resting on Athos' laps, while d'Artagnan, sword unsheathed, checked on Leloup.

- " He's dead", he said after a few seconds. "A bullet reached his heart." He turned. "How is Aramis?"

The two older Musketeers didn't answer, for there was nothing to say as the wounded hadn't showed any reaction or sign of recognition of his friends yet.

- "Aramis? Aramis, wake up!" He called softly while searching the pulse on the former priest's neck.

He found it slow and sluggish.

Suddenly Aramis' body began to shake, shock from the physical trauma finally setting in. Porthos had to catch the wounded's wrists to immobilize him, otherwise he could hurt himself even more.

- "Porthos, can you see if he was hurt by the bullet Leloup fired?" Athos asked, unable to see it by himself due to all the blood from other wounds their friend was covered of.

- "Let me see… Yes, there is a fresh wound on his left shoulder; I can even see the bullet!"

That's when Aramis heard his friend's voice, as if from a distance. After briefly wondering if it was a sort of dream or another of the delirium he tends to fall into since he was tortured, then concluding it was not because of the pain he felt, he half opened his eyes. "Porthos?" he whispered.

The Musketeers were overjoyed to see that Aramis was conscious, if only barely. "Yeah, my friend. Let's get you outta here.", the great Musketeer answered. His joy turned to fear when he saw the glassy, detached look in Aramis' eyes. Athos put out a hand and cupped it around the former priest's cheek. "He has a fever. His wounds must have infected."

Aramis raised his head from where it was resting heavily against Athos' laps to look at his elder. "I'm fine," he croaked.

Athos rolled his eyes at the stubbornness of Aramis to always pretending being fine, even if it was obvious he was not.

- "Indeed. You will be once we get you home, my friend." Porthos' voice was gentle as he smiled at the younger man, amused by the older Musketeer's reaction.

- "Yeah. Home", the former priest whispered, closing his eyes. "And bed. But no doctors. I'm fine. D'you hear me, Athos? No doctors", he added, slightly slurring as the pain began to drive him delirious, while he once more faded in the darkness of unconsciousness.

- "And you dare say I'm a difficult patient", D'Artagnan mocked them from behind Porthos.

- "Shut up, D'Artagnan", Athos grumbled, not able to hide the smile on his face.

- "The fact is, my dear d'Artagnan, that you _are _a difficult patient", Porthos smiled.

Then, picking Aramis up from the ground, and carrying him bridal-style, he left the room, his friends following close.

The instant the four Inseparables entered the corridor in which all the fighting had taken place, they were surrounded by the surviving Musketeers, Tréville not so far behind, each demanding details about the situation with Leloup, Aramis' present state or their own well-being.

But as soon as they saw the former priest unconscious in Porthos' arms, all the conversations and questions began to die, to eventually leave room to a worried silence.

- "Athos, Porthos, D'Artagnan", Tréville finally asked. "Will he be alright?"

- "Yes", the oldest of the group answered. "We'll do whatever it takes to make sure he'll be."

Some of the Musketeers nodded in approbation, and then moved off the way in order to let Porthos go outside with his precious burden. The two other Inseparables began to follow, but Athos suddenly turned around.

- "I wanted to know", he declared. "How do the Musketeers that came with us in the first place fare?"

There was now an akward silence, which was soon broken by Tréville. "Two of them died, Athos. One of them is Demuset."

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan felt their throats tighten. He had been the first to propose his help, assembling a group of soldiers to vanquish their foes, then offering to get time to let them free Aramis, and now he was dead, whereas the Inseparables didn't have the time for just thanking him about his deeds.

Athos' eyes darkened, but he added anything, resuming his walk and going out of the catacombs.

_Well, well, well! Another chapter finished! Sorry for the delay but my muse had disappeared somewhere and without her I was unable to write the last part, for I'm not gifted in writing tragic moments._

_Anyway. I hope you liked it. There will be another chapter before I close this fic, but I've just written some lines, so it will not be updated soon (By soon I mean next week or before the end of the month, do you read, RandomWriter?). Honestly I don't know when I'll be able to finish it._

_Otherwise, maybe you saw it but in chapter… 7, I - Athos - described Aramis as "_Tall, black-haired, dark-eyed…" _whereas in chapter…_ _I-don't-know-which-but-past-7, I said he was green-eyed. Well, that is a mistake (obviously…) but it can be explained by the fact that in the 2011 movie he has dark eyes and in the beginning I wanted to follow the movie about the descriptions of the characters, and then reading a fic in which he had green eyes I must have decided to change. So in my fics Aramis has now green eyes! (That's wonderful to be a fic character, you can change your age, your physical de__scription depending on the __author__ of the story__!) _

_By the way it's in the chapter 8. ;)_


	13. Chapter 13 : Difficult waiting

**Chapter 13 : Difficult waiting**

- "Doctor, will he be alright?" D'Artagnan asked, anxious.

The three friends had eventually brought Aramis home. The youngest had been sent to fetch *their* doctor - the same they usually consulted when a mission had gone wrong - while Athos and Porthos was lying him in his bed.

Quickly understanding the situation, the man of science had cancelled his others appointments to rush to the Musketeers' house, and was currently closely in Aramis' room, inspecting the various wounds of the former priest, letting escape some mumblings that didn't bode well for the King's soldiers who were waiting at the door

The man straightened from his position above Aramis' bed. Looking at the young Gaskin who just entered, he sighed, taking his glasses off.

- "I don't know", he answered with a glint of weariness.

- "What does that mean, 'I don't know'?" Porthos replied, a bit angrier than intended.

- "What it means", the other answered flatly. "It means I'm not able to say whether he'll live or not."

Athos could feel his anger rise for the third time in the day at the seemingly unconcerned tone of the physician.

- "But what kind of a doctor are you?" he shouted. You're not _able _to say if he'll make it?"

- "Look", the doctor interrupted, irritated.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before continuing. "He had must likely been tortured. Again and again. With all he must have been submitted to, I can even _begin_ to understand how he's still alive. To speak the least, the bullet wound on his shoulder alone should have killed him. If I wasn't a man of science I would say it's a miracle and even being one I'm close to do it!"

Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan looked at each other, while the other man was going on.

- "I've checked any sign of infection around the gashes and patched them, righted the broken bones, included the battered ribs, which fortunately didn't punctured the lungs, and bandaged them up, cleaned the dried blood and even done a close inspection of the head wound he received at the beginning of your mission. Right now, there's nothing more I can do. About the fever, I'll give you some medicine and you'll have to help them act by putting cold towels on his forehead."

He took his coat and prepared to leave.

- "If he passes the night, he will live", he added. "If that so, he may still be a bit delirious from the fever, for some wounds were pretty badly infected, as well as he could be confused from his aggravated concussion. But don't worry for him, he's strong. I believe that if one could make it, it would be him".

That was a poor tentative to cheer them up, and the Musketeers were conscious of it. However Athos nodded, showing both his understanding and his gratefulness. The doctor smiled before leaving the house.

- "I'll be back tomorrow to see how he fares", he promised.

That night was one of the most long and exhausting they've ever seen. There was times when Aramis' condition was so bad that it made the Musketeers believe their friend was already dead, for his pulse was very weak and his breathing almost inexistent. Sometimes too the fever fell, and the former priest looked like he had merely caught a cold.

Otherwise, he was mostly unconscious, hot at the touch, slightly moaning, either in pain or when nightmares went tormenting him, likely about the whole situation he was put into, thought his companions. Athos didn't want to even begin to imagine what they were about.

Eventually the terrible night came to an end, and, incredibly enough for the Musketeers who, although they of course wanted their padre to survive, hadn't much hope left, Aramis was still alive; still in a pitiful state, but alive.

As promised, the doctor was there early, and seemed fairly impressed at the sight of the man he had almost declared dead the eve, well alive, even if not out of trouble yet.

The physician didn't miss the hope in the three men's eyes at the sight of their friend clinging to life. He felt he didn't have the right to deceive it.

Without a word, he took a wet towel in the basin the Musketeers and began to refresh the former priest's forehead, while changing the bandages and checking the wounds.

- "I'm glad to say his wounds are clean", he said after a few minutes. "It's a good sign. Now, could you show me the kitchen, so I could prepare some drugs that may help him?"

Athos went down with him. After a few minutes, D'Artagnan stood up to get closer to Aramis' bed. He took the towel left by the doctor and continue his task of wetting the wounded… who suddenly moaned faintly.

In the silent room the sound echoed like a shout, surprising both Musketeers. Five seconds later Athos and the doctor came back, and seeing the shock on Porthos and D'Artagnan's faces, asked worriedly what was going on.

Without answering, the youngest bend above the former priest, and gently taking his shoulders in his hands, he said :

- "Come on, Aramis, say something!"

They all waited ten long seconds (Athos and the doctor having quickly understood the matter), before an answer came, slow and faint :

- "Some…thing".

- "… I'm glad to see you have returned, Aramis!", Portos said, not able to prevent the relief he was feeling to draw a broad smile on his face

- "Yeah… Me too", began the fallen Musketeer. "… But … Could you tell me what you're doing in my room?

The three friends looked each other, ill-at-ease. Why wasn't Aramis able to remember ? Worried, they turned towards the doctor, who smiled reassuringly.

- "He's just a bit destabilized by the whole situation. Who wouldn't? Do not worry about your friend. He is young and strong and I'm sure that soon enough he will drive us all crazy with his boredom before I allow him to leave the bed."

Reporting their glances on the bed, they noted that said soon-to-be bored to death Aramis wasn't going to do that soon, for he had just drifted in unconsciousness once more.

- "Very well. I... thank you doctor. For everything."

The physician hoped for at least a little smile but wasn't surprised when he didn't get one. He understood the anxiety and the wariness Athos, Porthos and D'Artagnan were feeling, so didn't let such a thing upset him and left silently the house.

**Yes, thanks to fox17hp and AlexaAres who unknowingly asked me the same thing with only one day apart, I've succeeded in finishing one more chapter of my fic.**

**This one is much longer than what I've used you to, and, well, it made a month to write, so please tell me what you think of it?**


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